Prove the Point
by whispered touches
Summary: Korra likes to give Mako nicknames - partly because he makes it so easy, and partly because she thinks it's hilarious that he always proves her point. A one-shot series. Five: Slowpoke.
1. City Boy

**what:** Korra likes to give Mako nicknames - partly because he makes it so easy, and partly because she thinks it's hilarious that he always proves her point. A one-shot series.

**who: **Korra & Mako & Bolin.

**when: **between "The Revelation" and "A Voice in the Night."

**where: **the streets of Republic City.

**why: **City Boy.

* * *

**1. City Boy**

It took a lot of pleading, prodding, and, on Bolin's part, pouting to get Mako to agree - which, Korra thinks, is ridiculous - what can be easier than showing her around the city he's lived in his entire life, the city he knows so well? - but agree he has, and here they are, the three of them, on the sidewalk in front of the arena, looking up and down the street and trying to decide which way to go.

"So..." Korra says, to break the silence. "Where to?"

She glances over at Mako: He's standing a couple feet away from her and Bolin with his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his scarf pulled up to his face, and he's staring over at the sun, beginning to set behind the tall buildings. He doesn't answer.

Briefly catching her eye, Bolin bounds over to him and slings an arm around his neck, pulling him tight to his side. "C'mon, Mako, you're the official tour guide! Where are we going?"

Mako heaves a sigh, the kind that means he considers the whole thing a big waste of time, and for a second Korra's annoyed. They invited him along because he knows the ins and the outs of the city better than either of them, but it's not like like he's _obligated_ to come with them; she's sure Bolin could manage just fine on his own.

Then she looks closer at him, at his face, and when she sees the crinkles at the corners of his eyes her anger recedes, a wave falling back into the ocean. It's the same way he looked the other night, in this same spot, after he climbed off Naga and hauled Bolin to his feet and tugged him into a rough hug. Korra remembers wondering, while she waited awkwardly off to one side, if he would ever let go.

She doesn't know Mako well enough (yet) to be sure, but the crinkle might be saying, _I'm glad you're here._

He shrugs Bolin off, but he seems more relaxed now, more open, somehow. His scarf has fallen down from in front of his mouth.

"Have you seen the shipyards yet?" he asks her. "They're, uh, kinda cool this time of day."

"I saw most of 'em, yeah," she says. "How do you think I got here?"

Very quietly, he hums in thought.

"We could make our way downtown," Bolin suggests. "By the time we get down there, the clubs should be opening up."

Korra feels her own face light up. She'd like that - it sounds fun, exciting - best of all, _reckless_. (The Tenzin in her mind shakes his head, scowls, his arms crossed. _As if you __haven't had enough excitement since you arrived, Korra._ She mentally waterbends him into Yue Bay.)

"Yeah!" she says, all enthusiasm. "Let's do it!"

Mako turns a stern glare on them. He looks older than he really is with that look, a middle-aged man reprimanding two youngsters. (Tenzin's frown in her head and she almost laughs out loud.) "We have practice in the morning," he reminds them, his voice sharp and firm. "We are _not_ getting drunk tonight."

"Who said anything about drinking?" says Bolin innocently. "I just thought it'd fun to show Korra the nightlife."

"Yeah, it'd be fun to show me the nightlife!" she echoes.

Mako sighs again, but the crinkles around his eyes turn it into one of surrender. "Fine. We'll head down there" - he points toward the east - "and see what's around until we hit main street. Sound good?"

"I'm up for anything," she says. She levels her gaze on him and makes sure it's clear and steady, and she thinks for a moment that she really hates that she feels such a need to prove herself to him - and so they go.

Mako turns out to be a pretty terrible tour guide. Mainly it's Bolin who gestures at buildings and restaurants and shops that are getting ready to close, telling her who lives or lived where and where what happened and which place has the best noodles or the best dumplings and which vendor is the best haggler; although, to his credit, Mako never stops walking, never hesitates at a crossroads, leading them down streets that give Bolin plenty of ammunition to keep up his running commentary, and he does it so casually it feels more like they're just wandering around than anything else. Every now and then, Korra'll spot an opportunity for a good joke and she'll take it, and Bolin'll laugh and a couple times she even draws a half-mouth smile from Mako. They make a pretty good team.

Bolin has his muscley arm across her shoulders, and because it's longer than she is wide his wrist is dangling off one end; on her other side, even though he tries to prevent it, Mako's hip keeps bumping against her and every time it does this _thrill_ jolts through her chest and sets it on fire and makes it hard to breathe until she knows she can hold herself back from doing something she might regret (or, more importantly, something _he_ might regret). Their shadows are long in the fading orange light.

She hears a gurgling sound come from her left: Bolin's hand is on his stomach and he's looking down at it in surprise. Korra laughs - at least, until her own stomach growls, almost calling out to his. In the corner of her eye, Mako presses his lips together and turns his head, like he doesn't want her to see him laughing.

(_Shame_, she thinks, in that quiet, warm, bright corner of her mind, _he looks so much better when he's happy._)

"This is gonna sound totally out of the blue," says Bolin, "but I think we should find someplace to eat."

Korra grins and Mako shrugs. Without a word, seemingly without thought, he turns right the next chance he gets. She's set to follow, but when Bolin stops, she's forced to stop with him.

"Hang on, there's a great place over this way!" He jerks his elbow down the street ahead.

Mako walks back to them and looks in the direction he's pointing. He stares for a few long seconds, his whole body stiff, like he's frozen solid. She and Bolin glance at each other. Cautiously, Korra steps toward him and stretches out her hand to his bicep.

"Mako?" she says softly.

He gives a start and his eyes are wide as they lock onto hers, the sunset casting shadows on his cheeks.

Bolin matches her tone. "You okay, bro?"

His face is unreadable - probably largely because he's just pulled his scarf up again and turned back around, not looking back.

"We'll find somewhere else to eat." Mako's words are short, clipped.

"What? Why? I go down there all the time, what's wrong with it?"

"_C'mon_, Bo."

"No." Bolin sets his jaw and his arm drops from around her. "Tell me why."

Mako twists around again, just his upper body, then one leg, and says nothing.

"I'm not a kid anymore!" Bolin says, and he stomps his foot. Coming from anyone else it'd be a contradiction, but when he does it the earth ripples and Mako loses his footing. "Tell me!"

The two brothers glare at each other. It's an incredibly tense moment and Korra feels like an intruder.

In the end it's Mako who looks away first, down at his hand, where he lights a fire in his palm and watches it while Bolin just keeps staring, his gaze unflinching, unwavering, hard as rock. Eyes still on the flames, Mako straightens. His expression is pitiful, almost wretched, his eyebrows knit close together, a crease between them. The fire burns out after a minute and he look back at Bolin, his face, his eyes, his voice softer.

"No, Bo."

This time, all the fight goes out of Bolin; he deflates. Korra wonders if he can tell.

Her heart is a block of ice, freezing her blood in her veins, pounding in her ears.

_This is where. This is where._

She nudges him in the side, forcing her mouth into a smile. "You gotta stop being so picky, Bolin," she teases through a tight throat. Her arm snakes around his waist, squeezing because Bolin - poor Bolin, Bolin with his winning smile and curly hair and upturned nose, Bolin who isn't a kid anymore - doesn't know that he's been dancing on his parents' graves.

Mako waits for them to catch up before he - _they_ start walking again, glancing over his shoulder as they go. Korra wraps her arm around his and he stiffens, but he doesn't pull away. All the ice inside her melts.

"All right, City Boy," she says, and she can see his eyes flick to her and away and then he's hiding his face like before, except maybe not for the same reason. "Apparently picky runs in the family," (and he knows she knows) "so since _you_ denied us a perfectly good meal, it's _your_ job to find us some food."

He sighs, and now it's just tired and world-weary and aged, as though he's used to it, expected nothing less. She hesitates; then she slides her hand down, around his wrist and his hand. It's still warm.

* * *

**a/n: **didn't expect/want/mean for this to be so angsty. hm.

so i'll be updating every couple of days - 'cause it usually takes me that long to write 'em - but, as a warning, i really suck at multi-chaps, even if they're not connected, so. yeah. heads up for that.

i'm not just taking nicknames from the show, by the way, although all of those will get an instance where Korra uses it in a way different from the way she does officially. i am coming up with some of my own, which hopefully won't end up too weird or derpy. these aren't gonna be in any particular order, and some will definitely have more Makorra than others (and trust me, there WILL BE Makorra), and there isn't really gonna be a set length.

if you wanna keep updated on this, i try to post it as a WIP on my tumblr (also whisperedtouches), so if you wanna take a look at that, go for it, or if you don't, that's fine too. my stance on reviews is the same.

thanks for reading. see you in a couple days, i hope!

~whispered touches

**disclaimer: **these three and Republic City and bending and all that jazz belong to Nick and Bryke. i own nothing, no copyright infringement is intended.


	2. Hot Stuff

**what:** Korra likes to give Mako nicknames - partly because he makes it so easy, and partly because she thinks it's hilarious that he always proves her point. A one-shot series.

**who:** Mako & Korra, Makorra. & Bolin at the end because he's amazing.

**when:** two or three years after this point in the series - after Korra's mastered airbending and isn't living on Air Temple Island.

**where:** the apartment they share with Bolin (not the attic).

**why: **Hot Stuff.

* * *

******2. Hot Stuff**

She stands at the edge of a glacier, where the ice meets the sea. The sun shines down on everything and nothing, reflecting off the snow and water and it is so bright, so very bright. Beneath her feet, the ice shifts and she falls into the snow, only it isn't snow because it's warm and it's still falling and she's still falling and she's buried under it like it's a blanket -

Her eyes open; it takes a few moments for her surroundings to register. She really is under a blanket - a sheet, to be more precise - and she's in a bed. Sunlight spills from the window onto her face until a silhouette draws the curtains shut, then, like a shadow, slinks noiselessly from the room. There's still the ghost of a touch lingering on her forehead, her cheeks.

Is she still asleep, still dreaming? She must be.

Korra groans in her throat and rolls over, stretching. At her own movements, she becomes aware of the fact that she's naked beneath the sheet - memories, blurred and frenzied, rush into her, and a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

She sits up, popping her back and shoulders. The room's dim light makes it difficult, but with some effort she finds her under bindings and a shirt of Mako's, which gives her hope for the view that's waiting for her outside. Suddenly cold, she crosses her arms and opens the door.

Mako's standing at the counter, bare-torsoed as she'd guessed. Hearing the floorboards creak, he looks around at her.

"Hey." His voice is low and rough. "Did I wake you up?"

She doesn't let him turn around: she hugs him from behind, stepping close to him and pressing her face into his shoulder blade.

"I'm not sure," she mumbles. "Maybe a little."

A sigh. When she breathes in, she smells spices and smoke and ___heat_. She tilts her head, bone and muscle against her nose, and when she speaks again she can almost taste him.

"I was having a dream. I think."

"Mhmm." It resonates within him, through his back and it goes into her chest, deep inside her. "Was it a good dream? One involving a charming firebender, maybe?"

She pretends to consider it. "Nope, no firebender… There might've been an earthbender, though."

He chuckles and she can feel that, too, and she's glad he gets the joke.

"I don't remember most of it, actually," she says, quiet, thoughtful. "But there was a lot of light."

Her hands roam along his stomach, over his ribs and the soft pink flesh there, and down under his ribcage to his hip where the scar tissue ends. His skin is hot to the touch and she can sense his breathing shift.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Uh..." There's some rustling in front of him, boiling and sizzling. "Cooking."

She tries and fails to keep the skepticism from her tone when she says, "Oh. Where's Bolin?"

"He went out to get breakfast," he says. He sounds kind of hurt, so Korra kisses his shoulder. "He left a note."

Mako turns then and wraps his arms around her and _spirits_, is it really healthy for somebody's body temperature to be this high _all the time_?

"How are you?" he says into the top of her head.

"A little sore," she admits. "Worth it."

His lips stretch into a smile - almost a smirk, really - and she smiles, too, just for a moment. Hesitation grasps at her - because that hunger she had felt last night, that _need_, it had scared her; it had been intense and all-consuming, _burning_. She's not sure she would've been able to stop herself if she wanted to (and she thinks she's okay with that).

Brushing it aside, she leans up and presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. He pulls back from her so he can kiss her properly and relief floods through her because, even though the world had seemed to spin backwards, nothing has changed. The kiss can still be like this, soft and sweet and slow, without last night's desperation, without its fire, without the hunger. She's full, so, so full of _happy_ and _love_ and _warm_.

They break apart and a sound escapes from her, a laugh or something that Mako echoes. He smooths her hair, a tangled mess, over her shoulder and away from her face; his hand, which, last night, had seemed so _hot_, on fire and _everywhere_, drops an inch and drums a tattoo on her collarbone, exposed by the overlarge shirt, sparks dancing along his fingertips, and he just looks and looks at her with his golden eyes until it feels like her heart's about to burst.

Time passes, she isn't sure how much - but it's spent with Mako turning back to his cooking and Korra embracing him again, standing on tiptoe to brush her mouth up and down his neck, along its nape.

He jerks his head slightly, like he's swatting away a bug. "You're gonna make me burn the whole building down," he says, but he doesn't sound too upset about it.

"So?" Korra's lips tickle his ear. There's that shift again, that hitch, the deep breath; she can't help but grin. She's just thinking, _You know, I'm not too tired to go back to bed_ when she hears the key in the lock, so she goes for the tease instead. "Would that be such a problem, Hot Stuff?"

"_What_?" he chokes, only half a laugh. As Bolin walks through the door, she swiftly unwinds herself from around him, stepping toward the table and hopping onto it.

Bolin uses his foot to kick the door shut, turning to them. "Morning -" He yelps, slaps his free hand over his eyes. "Sorry! I thought you were decent!" On top of his head, Pabu curls up and buries his face in his tail.

Mako snorts. "Define 'decent,'" he mutters.

Korra conceals her snicker behind her hand. "Relax, Bo."

Reluctantly, he lowers his arm. "Oh. I thought you were - um, worse."

He clears his throat and color fills his cheeks. She feels heat rush to her own face and is thankful for her dark skin.

"Anyway..." he says, drawing it out. "I didn't expect you to be up."

She jerks her chin toward Mako. "Blame him," she says. "Stupid firebender."

He raises his hands in defense. "I can't help it. I rise with the sun."

"Fantastic," Bolin says, "'cause I brought food!" He holds up the bag he's still gripping.

"It'll make great leftovers," Mako says, gesturing pointedly at the dish he's preparing (she realizes she doesn't even know what it is).

Bolin's eyes go wide. "I didn't know you were cooking!" he says, moving forward, but Mako uses one hand to snatch the bag from him and the other to shove him back.

"Patience, bro."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles, and plops into a seat at the table. Pabu jumps off his head and scrambles up Korra's shoulders: Mako's eyes follow his tail to where it dips into the dangerously low neck of her shirt. She smirks. In retaliation he leans back against the counter, making it just shy of impossible for her not to admire the muscles of his chest and arms; when she looks back at his face, he's stolen her expression.

Bolin's watching them and catches the interaction. "Does this mean it's safe for us to officially declare 'Korra's room'" - he uses air quotes - "the guest room?" He waggles his eyebrows.

"I dunno," she says. "Ask Hot Stuff over there."

Mako rolls his eyes. Korra tilts her head, looks sideways at him. He returns her glance.

"Bet on it," he says. His gaze is heavy, intense - she feels like she's being turned inside-out.

Bolin's voice comes from far away: "Fine, but nobody gets to walk around naked, okay? Not without fair warning!"

* * *

**a/n:** first one i made up - it's my new headcanon for something Korra calls Mako ALL. THE. TIME. from this point on, basically. :)

sorry this took so long. it gave me more trouble than i'd anticipated because my original version was too sweet for how i wanted Korra to say it, and i couldn't have Bolin randomly barging into their/Mako's room. but i like this better anyway, so it's all good.

guise. guise, the kiss. THE KISS. and just - THIS EPISODE. MY GOD. attack of the feels over here, man. i just. AHHHH. Makorra was legit, for a few minutes! and it was so wonderful! but my poor Bolin crying... i'm sorry, i need to be quiet.

anyway. as i've said before, i try to keep my progress updated on my tumblr (whisperedtouches dot tumblr dot com), so you can always check that out if you get bored. and also, i've got about ten million plot bunnies for ATLA and for LOK, so if i have time i'll work on those too. if i don't get to them by the end of the school year, i'll be a maniac at the beginning of summer, i promise.

if you could review, i'd be so happy. tons of you favorited and alerted last time, but there weren't very many reviews... just sayin'.

either way, thanks for reading! hope you liked it.

~whispered touches

**disclaimer: **Legend of Korra and all its characters belong to Bryke and Nick. i own and claim to own absolutely nothing 'cept a cool alligator pen. no copyright infringement is intended.


	3. Mr Hat Trick

******what:** Korra likes to give Mako nicknames - partly because he makes it so easy, and partly because she thinks it's hilarious that he always proves her point. A one-shot series.

**who: **Korra & Mako.

**when: **between "The Voice in the Night" and "The Spirit of Competition."

**where: **the pro-bending arena's gym.

**why:** Mr. Hat Trick.

* * *

**3. Mr. Hat Trick**

The way he moves... it's riveting. He never stays one place for more than a second, never favors one side or maneuver over another. He firebends differently from the way she was taught - differently from any firebender she's ever seen. Like a waterbender, almost, all fluid motions but for the short bursts of fire he unleashes, so much restraint until the final blow. And then... it's not as though he's unpleasant to look at. The focus and determination on his face is always so intense and she can just imagine his muscles rippling under all that padding -

"_What_?" he says sharply, suddenly.

"Hm? Wha - oh, nothing!"

She's been caught - and this time, not by herself.

Mako mops the sweat off his forehead. "Cut it out, will you?"

"Cut what out?" Korra asks innocently, because she can already feel the blood in her cheeks and she _really_ doesn't want to have to say it out loud.

"Staring at me!"

"I wasn't! I was" - even in her head it's lame - watching you bend."

How does admitting to that manage to sound more embarrassing than checking him out?

"Yeah, well, whatever," he mutters, turning away slightly. "Just stop it, all right? I'm trying to practice."

"Mako, practice is over," she says.

He ignores her (_in typical Mako fashion_) and assumes a stance - not one that Korra's familiar with, with knees bent and spread apart, back straight, but with his shoulders hunched, his elbows close together. She allows herself to be momentarily dazzled by the flames that erupt from his hands and feet, the heat, imperceptible from her distance, searing him, drawing more sweat from him as he spins and ducks around invisible attackers, sends fire at them, growing more and more vicious until, abruptly, he stops. He leans over and puts his hands on his knees, and she thinks it's a miracle that they aren't still so hot that he burns himself.

At length, breaking through his heavy breathing, she says, "There is such a thing as too much practice, Mr. Hat Trick."

"I know," he pants, head down; looks at her, straightens. "But I'm not there yet."

With what seems to be most of his remaining strength, Mako shifts back into position, lifts his arms. He starts to bend again - but something's off about it now, something changed. Is she just noticing it, she wonders, or was it like that before? She watches him for a while longer before she realizes:

"Those attacks are way longer than a second. You'd definitely get penalized for that."

She thinks she hears, "I know," but isn't sure so she says, "That'd never be allowed in a match."

"I know!" he snarls. He gives a yell of frustration and releases a large column of flame into the air in front of him, so large she can feel its heat from her corner of the gym. He yanks off his helmet and raises it above his head like he's about to throw it, but then he lowers his hand. Doesn't want to pay for the repairs if it breaks, she realizes (which, judging by his expression, it would've). His shoulders slump.

Korra stands and approaches him. Part of her is ready to march up to him and tell him off for being a jerk about a simple observation she made, one that needed to be said, but another part recognizes - or rather, doesn't recognize - the bite in his voice. It's one she's never heard before, not from him.

"What do you think you're doing?" she says instead, and she's proud of herself for staying calm.

Mako sighs through his nose, the way Tenzin does when he's trying to keep his temper in check, and turns away from her. "Nothing."

"Ha! Ha ha ha! Funny joke!" She makes a show of forcing her laugh and falls back into seriousness. "That wasn't _nothing_, Mako. That was... something."

(What a convenient time for her horrible people skills to show themselves.)

_Whoa, whoa, whoa,_ says her pride a second later, _he thinks he can just walk away from me without saying anything? Like I'm not worth answering? Like he can just dismiss me? Yeah, right __- in his dreams!_

Admittedly, she hopes she's doing something _else_ in his dreams, but right now she grabs for his forearm, her fingers clenched tight so he won't shake her off.

"Hey," she says. "Don't shut me out," because they both know that it's not going to end well for anyone if he does.

The wall that Mako puts up to separate himself from everyone - it sometimes makes her wonder if he's not the earthbender - she can feel it drop. He undoes the straps of his gear; Korra's still gripping his arm, and she releases him as though scalded.

"It's just..." Closing his mouth, shaking his head. She frowns.

"C'mon, out with it."

Her heart beats once, twice.

"I've had to look after Bolin most of my life," he says. He pauses again, glances at her and looks down at his toes, and then the words seem to fall out of him in an avalanche, from some hidden room inside him that he always keeps locked: "I practically raised him. I can hardly remember what life was like before we were on the streets. And I'm not gonna lie... it was hard. I had to take care of him and make sure he had somewhere to sleep and something to eat. I've always put him first - and I don't regret that, I'd do it all over again if I had to. But I've always had to protect him, and I'm starting to realize that I can't do that all the time. You know what, I shouldn't -"

"Yes, you should," she interrupts. It's a role reversal - he's usually the one who pushes her, and usually just with bending. She likes this. She could get used to it.

He grinds his teeth. "What'd you have to go and challenge Amon for, anyway?" he snaps. His harshness catches her so much by surprise she almost isn't offended. "It was a stupid, bonehead thing to do! What were you thinking?"

Shock gives way to anger. "_Don't_ make this about me!"

"He could've taken your bending away, Korra! He could've _killed you_ if he'd wanted to!"

"You think that hasn't crossed my mind?" she shouts, and her voice gets all high and indignant and it cracks and it doesn't help. She tugs at his shoulder and then shoves it, _hard_. "I - you - what the hell is your _problem_?"

"I'm not strong enough to protect both of you, that's my problem!"

The silence that falls is so loud it hurts, and she hates it – hates the quiet and hates the hurting and hates the look on Mako's face, like he's ashamed of himself. For a short and wonderful moment, she considers slapping that stupid look right off his stupid face.

"I didn't ask you to protect me."

"You didn't have to," Mako says. He still sounds mad, and she doesn't know why or with who. He rubs the back of his neck, wandering over to the wall, sliding down it. Korra stands there, then crosses her arms and leans next to him.

"I could teach you how to firebend," she says. "If you want."

"I know how to firebend."

"I meant traditionally. What's allowed in the arena isn't going to keep you safe."

"It's not me I'm worried about."

_Does he have to make _everything _hard for me?_

"Not you specifically!" He just makes her want to throw a tantrum sometimes – although she thinks throwing him across the room might bring her more relief.

His forehead's against his hand, elbow on his knee, drawn up a little. "I don't know..."

When she studies him, she doesn't let herself get _too_ distracted by the line of his jaw and nose and focuses on the fist he's got curled at the base of his throat. She pushes off from the wall, squatting low and breathing deep.

The move she performs is basic yet complicated: She twirls her arms overhead and spins in midair – lands close to the ground and kicks in a wide sweep – uses her arms to vault herself up and ends with them extended to either side of her, fire flowing from her all the time. It's within her as well as without, raging, and she forces it to remain contained, to lick and roar at her insides. To cool down she just breathes some more, lowers her arms and stands up fully, hoping she's not imagining feeling Mako's gaze on her as she turns back around.

"It's all about self-control," she says. "Restraint."

Though she's had many teachers, she's never been one; but the advice is sound, and she thinks that maybe it's an Avatar thing.

His eyes are closed. She offers him her hand anyway.

_Wait. Listen, and wait._

A sigh. He looks up at her from between his fingers.

"Restraint, huh?" He's teasing. "Remind me how you mastered firebending again?"

Korra scoffs. "Get up."

He grabs her wrist and pulls himself to his feet, and she'd like to pretend he holds on just a little longer than necessary.

(And he's not wrong, because if she has to watch him pull up his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face _one more time_, she is going to_ lose it._)

* * *

**a/n: **mmkay, so it might seem like Mr. Hat Trick doesn't fit this one, but just think - Mako's trying to do three things here, protect Bolin, protect Korra, and protect himself (not necessarily from the same thing).

I kinda threw my separate plot bunny into this one... but i think it worked. don't you?

oh my god, Tenzlin. just LIN. this was LOK's "girl power" episode, just like the Kyoshi episode. and the hug, and Tahno, and KORRA, and LIN - FEELINGSSSSS AND EMOTIONSSSSSSS, AHHHH.

sorry for the lack of Bo this time. i may or may not make up for it. next time, we're finally getting away from quiet and angst - with drinking! yay! wanna try and guess the nickname? it's canon...

double episode next week, folks. wanna review to celebrate?

if not, that's cool. thanks for reading as always. i really appreciate it. :)

~whispered touches

**disclaimer: **i don't own the legend of Korra or its characters or bending or any of that jazz. belongs to Bryke and Nick (but mostly Bryke). no intentional copyright infringement over herr.


	4. Cool Guy

**what:** Korra likes to give Mako nicknames - partly because he makes it so easy, and partly because she thinks it's hilarious that he always proves her point. A one-shot series.

**who: **Mako & Korra & Bolin & Asami. (slight Masami, i'm afraid.)

**when: **a few weeks after "And the Winner Is..." maybe.

**where: **a seedy bar downtown.

**why: **Cool Guy.

* * *

**4. Cool Guy**

Okay, this is officially the _best_ idea Korra's _ever_ had.

"I'd hate to see the worst," Mako mutters. She's probably not meant to hear it - she hadn't even meant to say it - but the band in the corner chooses that moment to end their song, so the remark travels clearly to her in the otherwise crowded club.

She frowns at him; so does Bolin, leaning across most of the table, and Asami, her hand wrapped around his elbow.

"Hey, I'm having a good time," she says, equal parts a scold and a laugh.

"Yeah, _Mako_." Bo enunciates just a bit too much, squinting at him, and leans, if possible, further toward him (Asami quickly pulls her drink out of the danger zone). "_We're_ havin' _fun_. And you're bein'... you're bein' a... an unfun person!"

This strikes Korra as funny for two reasons, because even though Bolin's made of muscle and bulk, he's a major lightweight where alcohol's concerned, and because it's the same insult he would've come up with if he was sober. She finds this so hilarious, in fact, that she breaks her glare away from Mako and cracks up, leaning so far back in her chair she almost topples over and knocks down a waitress passing by with a tray full of drinks.

She's wiping tears from her eyes when she falls forward again. Her vision clears and she looks around at them all: Mako's got his eyebrow raised, but Asami's mouth is twitching and Bolin looks pretty pleased with himself as the band kicks up a new tune.

Korra holds her glass loosely and brings it to her lips, smirks at them over the rim before taking a gulp, used to it enough by now that she doesn't have to hiss through her teeth as it goes down, just grimaces for a second at the aftertaste.

Mako's hand is over the top of his own glass, twisting it on the table, one finger slipping a little on the edge. It's still completely full of amber liquid and they came in - what, an hour ago? Two? Whatever - either way, she kicks him in the shin.

"What?" she says, nodding at his untouched drink. "Is _Cool Guy_ too _cool _to accept my generosity?"

He shakes his head and says nothing.

Bolin furrows his brow. "Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute," he slurs. "'M confused. I thought this was _Tenzin's_ gen - genrosty."

"What makes you say that?" stifling another laugh in her throat.

"Well, you seso, din' you?"

Asami pulls her hair over one shoulder. "I think your exact words were, 'I borrowed some money from Tenzin, let's go to a bar.'" She looks way too amused as she takes a sip.

"Speaking of Tenzin..." Mako gets this superior look on his face, all high and mighty and part of her wants to laugh and part of her wants to kiss him but mostly she just wants to punch him so she compromises by kicking him again. He winces and continues, "Somehow I get the feeling he wouldn't approve of this."

In her mind's eye, Tenzin's face floods red and the winds roar around him, at his command, lift him into a massive tornado and he swirls in the vortex and rips the air from her lungs.

(That or he'd yell at her, but she thinks the first one's more interesting.)

"Maybe," Korra concedes. "But what Tenzin doesn't know won't hurt him."

Mako sighs, glancing around the club without meeting anybody else's eyes. The line of his shoulders is tense, nervous.

Now she does laugh, points at him, grinning like a maniac. "No way! You're scared of him! Cool Guy's scared of Tenzin!"

Asami snorts. "Scared of the big, bad, _pacifist airbender_?"

The emphasis she puts on those last two words is so heavy Korra doesn't know how Asami, being neither a bender nor an athlete, managed to lift it in the first place.

"He's intimidating!" Mako says defensively. He huffs and crosses his arms. "And he's really tall, and the deep voice, and the beard..."

"_Yeah_, leave Mako '_lone_." Bolin's fist slams down on the table and nearly upsets all their drinks.

"So you're on my side now."

"I'll always be there for you, bro!" He raises his glass to his brother, who snatches it away from him before he can tilt it back. "Hey!"

"I think you've had enough," says Mako.

Bolin pouts. "I hate you."

Asami says, "You know you've had too much to drink when you're not sure whose side you're on," and for some reason she and Bolin, grumpiness forgotten for the moment, think this is hilarious, and they both snicker to each other.

Still grinning, Korra slaps Mako's arm with the back of her hand. "He's been picking up your slack," she tells him. "You gonna drink that?"

He drops the glass like it's filled with explosive poison.

"Oh, c'mon," she wheedles. "Tenzin's not here. And even if he was, _I'm_ the criminal mastermind behind this whole thing, I'm the one he'd murder."

"Nice time to finally take responsibility for your actions," he says.

"Thanks!"

"It wasn't a compliment."

She hears Bolin tell Asami to "watch this" and then his hand not-so-subtly begins to creep across the table toward his hijacked alcohol, but Mako jerks it out of his immediate reach and holds it out while Bolin stretches out his arm as far as he can.

"There's only one way to stop him." Korra smirks.

A whine: "Makooo..."

"Really. What's that?"

Sharper: "Mako."

She cuts her eyes between him and the drink in his hand. He groans.

It's become two short syllables, more of a bark, really. "Mako!"

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"I kid you not."

"You're serious?"

"Dead serious."

Growing tired of the struggling, Bolin gets to his feet to reclaim his stolen drink. In one swift movement, before she even completely realizes that it's happened, Mako stands up, shoves Bo away, and keeps him at arm's length long enough to tip his head back and down the whole thing in one. Bolin's so stunned that he doesn't protest when Asami tugs him into his seat.

Mako coughs and sputters, collapsing back into his chair, but Korra claps and woops, and a couple people turn and stare at her as if she has six heads. The band finishes their song a few seconds later.

"That's how you do it!" she says. He coughs some more, wipes at his mouth, and Asami pats him on the back. "Way to go, Cool Guy!

He won't stop coughing; jokingly she offers him the remainder of her drink.

"Need something to wash it down?"

Thank the spirits she was born with so much comedic talent. Too bad Mako can't seem to appreciate it, because he just glares at her.

The glass that used to be Bolin's is empty. He stares at it in disbelief, he picks it up and he turns it over - not a drop spills from it and he lets it fall with a dull clatter. He looks devastated (and it's actually _really_ funny).

"Be right back," he mumbles, and wanders off in the general direction of the bathroom. Mako watches him go until he disappears into the crowd.

Asami stands. "I'm gonna go too," she says. "Korra?"

"Hm? Oh - nah, I'm good."

She shoots Korra a weird look and Mako a quick smile and attempts to thread her way through the crowd. Finally Korra sees just how drunk she is: where she would normally weave between tables with ease, almost with grace, every male's head turning as she passes, now she trips and stumbles and staggers, her movements uncoordinated so that at times she has to lean on tables and catch onto chairs and, accidentally, shoulders to stay upright. Not that she isn't attracting male attention, she's even gorgeous wasted, the eyes of every guy in the place is on her - every guy, it seems, except Mako.

Korra's not sure how to feel about this so she scowls at the fingers clasped around the base of the glass. They're strong, scarred and callused, the skin stretched tightly over her bones when she flexes; she watches the muscles and tendons slide along them as she lifts a hand and makes a claw. Her nails are getting longer and she resists the urge to bite them by wrapping them around the drink and sipping from it.

A man falls onto their table suddenly and Mako jumps. Korra grabs the guy by the collar of his jacket and shoves him up and back. She can feel her own biceps contract, tighten, and loosen.

"What are you so jumpy for?" she asks.

He glances around again. "This isn't exactly the best bar you could've picked."

"This place is great!"

"Well... it's kind of..." He fishes for the word in the recesses of his brain and settles on, "Seedy."

There's smoke drifting near the ceiling and a rusty smell and noise, noise, more noise, but the music's good and the booze was cheap and her company isn't too bad, either.

"Innit?" she says appreciatively. "Look, don't worry about it!" He looks away. "I can handle anyone, I'm the Avatar!"

There's a beat of silence (between them, anyway). Sighing, Mako taps the end of his nose.

Her heart seems to commit suicide by leaping from a tall building, but it never hits the ground, never stops falling, just plummets down and down and down, the world rushing by in colors and shapelessness and wind in her ears as she tumbles head over heels, head over heels, the room spinning and spinning.

_Oh_.

He looks at her pitifully then and she wonders if it slipped out, if she said it in a small voice to get a look like that, like glowing coals. She's sorry, she couldn't keep it in, it burst out of her, _stupid, stupid_.

She's so angry with herself for being so blind, so ignorant and naïve. Of course. It makes sense. The Avatar's a target: that means her friends - and potential boyfriends - are targets. It'd be dangerous to get involved with her. Of course he'd stay with Asami; it's the smart thing to do, the safe thing. Asami is safe.

Korra swirls the last dregs of her drink and tosses it back, noticing the liquid missing from Mako's glass. It's not splashed on the table, and she quirks a tiny smile.

"Dance with me." Command.

He takes another gulp. She thinks she can sense him swallow.

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"It's not my worst - not my best, either - but not the worst."

He chuckles. Quiet. She nearly misses it.

"Let's dance."

Sip. Swallow.

"Let's not."

His shoulders are tense for a different reason. She wants to hear him say it but doesn't want to force him.

"You don't trust yourself."

"You're drunk." Accusation.

"Oh, definitely. _I_ trust you, though."

He hangs his head.

"If you don't dance with me, I'm gonna have to find some creepy stranger..."

He sighs and - is he smiling? - drains the rest of his drink, his eyes screwed shut.

"All right," he says, looking at her finally. "Fine." Yeah, that's a grin. Mako catches himself and wills it away, with effort, it seems. "But I'm not happy about it."

They both get up, swaying a little. Korra grabs his wrist and pulls him toward the band, where an area's been cleared of tables to make a dance floor that's being put to good use, full of writhing bodies. She and Mako join in, going straight to the center, and become just two more faces in the mob, moving as one big mass, and the thrumming bass in the corner is the beast's heartbeat.

She turns to him, hesitates and takes his hands. The music's loud here, so he has to lean down and talk right in her ear to be heard.

"I'm not much of a dancer," he confesses.

"Sure you are, Cool Guy," she says, semi-shouting, and lower, "Follow my lead."

Although she's not really much of a dancer either, she begins to weave and skip about him, stepping close and back while he bobs awkwardly, close and back, closer and farther each time, the crowd pressing in on all sides, pressing, closing. He gets into it after a while, mirroring her - once she steps into him, kind of trips, and they're face-to-face and he's breathing alcohol straight into her lungs - she thinks he could breathe fire in this moment and she'd burn up, is burning up, she's ready to go up in flames - then he grabs onto her and spins her out, away, and he's a dragon twisting around her, easy, and when he spins her back to him she can _taste_ the drink. It's nothing more than a breath against her lips, a whisper, a wind, a passing ghost and then it's gone, vanished into thin air, ashes scattered in the breeze.

This band has some ridiculous timing: they finish their song and people applaud and cheer and Mako's slipping through her fingers, through the crowd. Korra could puke and not because of the drinking, the room's tilting and whirling again but she doesn't, she won't, she _can't_ even if she wants to.

Asami materializes out of nowhere and leads her to the wall. "Where's Mako?" she says.

"Back at the table," Korra tells her, and doesn't ask why.

"Go get him. We need to leave, _now_. Something happened."

_Yes, something did happen,_ but what she says aloud, with a large dose of sarcasm, is, "That's not vague at all. I totally understand what you're talking about."

"Bolin... well, he kind of... he tried to steal some guy's drink, almost got in a fight, then threw up on the guy's shoes. He mentioned trying to climb out the bathroom window."

Korra stares, shaking her head and throwing up her hands. "As much as I'd just _love_ to tell Mako he's gotta clean up the mess his brother made - _literally_ - like he _always_ has to... Thanks, but no thanks. I'll go help Bo."

"I was afraid you'd say that."

"Hey, he's _your_ boyfriend."

_At least_, she thinks as she walks off, cracking her knuckles and picturing Bolin getting his butt stuck in the window, vomiting all over himself and everything else, _I can hold my alcohol better than Bo._

* * *

**a/n: **wow that was long. a lot longer than the wait for this - quickest update yet, folks. woot.

I DIDN'T MEAN FOR THE KISS TO HAPPEN. WHAT. MAKORRA IS POSSESSING MY BODY. IT'S LIKE THE HULK, ONLY WITH MORE FLUFF AND FIRE AND ROMANCE. I AM OKAY WITH THIS.

told you i'd give you more Bo! even better, it was drunk!Bo! he's the best! drunk!Bo who's a lightweight and turns bipolar! and drunk!Korra who thinks everything's hilarious and gets cocky and has bad ideas! and drunk!Asami who's really good at hiding it, but not her secrets? and drunk!Mako, who has no sense of good judgement whatsoever! yaaaaaaaay!

why does it feel like fire is becoming a recurring theme with these two? I DIDN'T MEAN FOR THAT TO HAPPEN EITHER.

next up (get ready to shit your pants) - future fic. with steambabies. that's right, Makorra kiddies. aslfghgapifnehlkr. you wanna try to guess? it was inspired by this one, actually - a line that popped into my head but didn't write for the sake of the next chapter.

if you wanna keep track of this, i try to keep it updated as a WIP on tumblr, also whisperedtouches. just a thought.

reviews are fantastic, just reading is even better. thanks guys. :)

~whispered touches

**disclaimer:** everything belongs to Bryke and Nick. i own nothing and intend to infringe on no copyright.


	5. Slowpoke

**what:** Korra likes to give Mako nicknames - partly because he makes it so easy, and partly because she thinks it's hilarious that he always proves her point. A one-shot series.

**who: **Mako & Korra & Rai Li (ray-lee) & Kouri (corey). Makorra.

**when: **about twelve-fifteen years post-series/post this point in the series.

**where: **Republic City Park.

**why: **Slowpoke.

* * *

**5. Slowpoke**

Exactly _how_ she's managed to retain most of her strength after everything – sitting through council meetings day in and day out and years of sudden inactivity and two pregnancies and _time_ – Korra doesn't know, but she does know that she's thankful for it as she catches up to Rai Li and snatches her up, throws her over her shoulder, dangling upside-down by her legs while she shrieks with laughter.

"Mommy!" Rai squeals. "Put me down!"

Korra secures her grip on her daughter's ankles. "No can do, kiddo."

"Mom!"

She whirls around – Rai Li squeals some more – and calls to her husband, lagging behind, "Hey, Slowpoke! Wanna hurry up and get over here before I go gray?"

"Yeah, Slowpoke!" echoes Rai Li. She struggles to do a kind of midair crunch. Relenting, Korra lets go of her and airbends her safely back to her feet.

"Working on it," Mako says from a distance. He kneels, scoops up Kouri and places his arms around his neck, carrying him toward them. "I think this one's ready for a nap."

Korra leans down to Rai Li and stage-whispers, "Dad's lying. He's just using Kouri as an excuse because he wants to be lazy."

Rai stifles a giggle behind her hand. Mako's rolling his eyes, smiling.

"I wouldn't mind it," he admits, using two fingers to gently remove Kouri's thumb from his mouth. "But that doesn't make me lazy."

"_Sure _it doesn't," says Korra, and she winks at Rai Li before heaving an exaggerated sigh. "All right then. Your dad's spoken, Rai. What he says goes. Dad's word is law."

"Awwww!" While Mako's busy glaring at her (Korra smirks), Rai, short little thing she is, latches onto his leg. "Can't we stay just a _little _longer, Daddy? I don't wanna go home!"

Impressive, Korra thinks, just like she has about every day for the past six years or so, as gold meets gold and Mako melts. Not even trying and she's got him wrapped around her finger. When she gets to be a teenager...

Her hearts twists and the sentence is cut off in her head by _not my baby_. Deciding to cross that bridge when they come to it (seven years from now, thank the spirits), she reaches out for her son and hugs him tight, picks stray pieces of grass out of his dark hair and caresses his cheek. Kouri blinks sleepy blue eyes at her and rests his head on her shoulder, yawning into the crook of her neck.

"Hey, Ri, baby," she murmurs.

"We don't have to leave, Rai," Mako tells her, bending over to pry her off him.

She looks up, her chin against his knee. "We don't?"

"No," he says. "We can just find a tree and sleep there."

He glances sideways at Korra; she raises her eyebrows with a smile playing on her mouth.

Rai seems to be lost in serious contemplation. Her eyebrows are drawn together and her lips are puckered into a thoughtful pout. "But..."

She beckons Mako closer.

"What?"

Shaking her head, she just waves him again.

"You're gonna have to stand up, sweetie, I can't bend that far."

Korra's unable to stop herself from snorting but manages to hide the rest of her snicker. Mako gives her a _really?_ look as Rai Li releases her choke-hold on his leg and cups her hands around his ear.

"You won't set the tree on fire," he says, more for Korra's benefit than Rai's.

"What about the grass?" Rai asks anxiously.

To his credit, he doesn't even chuckle. "You won't set the grass on fire, either."

Pride overflows in Korra because her daughter, so young, so oblivious to the world and the nature of life, cares so much for all aspects of it, regardless of whether or not it has a face.

"Promise?" Cue the big eyes.

Mako drops a kiss onto the top of her head, smoothing her hair. "Promise."

"C'mon," says Korra. "I know a great spot for napping."

They walk along the river. Kouri lifts his head and stares at it with way more concentration than is appropriate for a three-year-old to have, and maybe she's just getting her hopes up but she thinks she sees a wave surge under his gaze, an extra splash here or there.

Rai Li moves ahead and Mako falls in step beside Korra. "Very mature," he mutters out of the side of his mouth, and she grins.

"_You_ know it."

He flushes adorably, the same way he's always done around this topic and especially around the kids. She shifts Kouri in her arms to take his hand and squeeze it.

He's so long-limbed he can stretch his arm forward and tug on a lock of Rai's hair. She spins around: He points at Korra, and Rai's glare slides to her.

"Liar!" Korra says. "My hands are full, kiddo, look," and she tries to lift her and Mako's joined hands, but he rips his from her grasp, raising both to shoulder height. She elbows him. "Dad's lying again, Rai."

"Am not," Mako says.

"There he goes again!"

Rai Li puts her hands on her hips and says, with little-girl exasperation, "Daddy, lying is _wrong_."

Korra struggles not to laugh, but he keeps a straight face. "Sorry, Rai."

She turns around and they walk on. Korra nudges her husband in the ribs again so he knows something's up, but he doesn't react in time to prevent her from giving another tug on Rai Li's hair. Rai turns back around and says, "Dad!" while Korra's trying to wrestle Mako's hand into hers.

"I need an alibi!" she whines. Once more he pulls himself free and points at her.

"Mom did it that time, I swear!"

Rai shakes her head, disappointed. "You just said you wouldn't lie, Daddy."

Mako's jaw falls open in indignation. He throws Korra a dirty look.

"You've turned our daughter against me," he says.

"_Me? _Why, I would_ never_ do such a thing!" she says, grinning at him. "You did that all by yourself – Boy Who Cried Wolfbat-style."

"Momma?" Kouri says, right into her ear.

"Yes, baby?"

"Can you tell me a story?"

The fountain comes into view, and the tree with it.

"Right now?"

"Yeah."

"_Right now_? This second?" She tickles his stomach and his sides and his neck and he laughs high-pitches toddler laughs.

"Yeah!"

"Hmm..." She pretends to consider it. "I don't know..."

"Please?" He sticks out his lower lip.

"Yeah, Mom, please?" Rai Li chimes in. Her hand swings from Mako's and his eyes shine.

"Okay, okay," she says, groaning as she plops down beneath the tree and leans against its trunk, letting Kouri roll in a kind of controlled fall into her lap. "Just lemme think a minute. You two have tired me... out..."

Korra puts her head back and fakes snoring. Giggling like crazy children, her kids shake her "awake."

"Huh? What? Oh, I guess we've been sleeping a while, time to go!" She starts to get up.

"No!" Rai Li says, pulling her down. Kouri just laughs and so does Mako, at last, lacing their fingers.

"So you only wanna hold my hand when it's convenient for you?"

"I think you have a story to tell," he says.

"You're avoiding the question!"

He laughs some more and kisses her temple, leaning his head against hers. "Story..." he says, closing his eyes.

"Story!" Kouri repeats.

"C'mon over here, Rai." Mako opens his arm, and then, because she's hesitating: "You won't burn the grass. I promised, remember?"

There's another moment of pause and then Rai climbs into his embrace, curls up against his chest. Korra wants to laugh but doesn't. Still – the girl relights her birthday candles two months ago – all six of them – and now she thinks she can destroy the entire park? Someday, Korra doesn't doubt that, but not this one. Today there's just trepidation and a complete lack of self-confidence (_I wonder who she gets _that_ from_) and probably a little fear, too.

She smiles, sliding further down the trunk so she's sprawled out on the grass.

"What story do you wanna hear?" she asks.

"The Boy Who Cried Wolfbat!" blurs Rai, and Mako frowns.

"Maybe you can ask Uncle Bo to tell you that one later," Korra says.

The magic words – they both light up.

"Uncle Bo?"

"He's coming?"

"Yeah, we're gonna see him tonight. If _he_ tells you The Boy Who Cried Wolfbat, he can do the voices and _everything_."

"Tell us a new story," Rai says.

"Pabu!"

"A new story about Pabu? Let's see... How about Pabu's origins?"

In response, all three of them, even Mako, scoot closer.

"There was once a fire ferret named Pabu," she begins. "He lived in Republic City all by himself. Pabu was very lonely, and he was scared by the tall buildings and the loud Satomoblies. The other fire ferrets in the city didn't like him very much because his fur was brighter red than theirs, so Pabu didn't have any friends. But then one day, Pabu saw two boys eating some bread in an alley. Pabu was really hungry, so he stole the bread from the boys and ran across the street. The two boys chased after him, using earthbending and firebending to slow him down until they caught him. Realizing he had no way out, Pabu gave them back their bread. When the boys let him go again, he followed them back to where they had been before and found out that he'd saved them from getting the bread stolen by a bad guy who wouldn't have given it back to them. To thank Pabu for his heroic deed, the two boys shared their bread with him and promised to be his friend forever. And they were, and the three best friends lived happily ever after. The end."

Kouri's already asleep, his cheek on her thigh. Rai Li twists around on Mako and Korra's stomach; they've both "oof"ed and grunted and just missed getting kicked in the nose more than once by the time she's comfortable.

"Not your best," Mako informs her. "But I'll give you points for historical accuracy. More or less."

"Shut up." Korra runs her hand up and down Rai's back. "You good, kiddo?"

"Uh-huh."

"Good," she says. Leaves rustle overhead and she can feel the wind hum through them, the sky curving above the solid earth, the dappled sunlight on her skin, her heart beating nothing but love through her veins. She looks over and Mako's staring at her with eyes like the sun. "What?"

He smiles. Just a little. "Nothing."

She can feel her children breathing, feel his gaze scorching, feel the life – _her _life, her whole entire world – all around her, inside her, and it makes her smile the same way. Nothing. Everything. Exactly.

"Okay." She sighs and she realizes that she's _really_, really happy.

"Happy birthday..." Her fingers dig into his side, slowly, slowly, surely, with her nails, leaving a mark, a promise of things to come when the stars start to sing. "...Slowpoke."

* * *

**a/n: **aojfiaurhgangnihbihaee i am so overwhelmed with feels for my own story that i could barely finish it you guise. because. the steambabies. they're just. and Makorra. and just. I BROKE MYSELF, GUISE. DROWNING IN FEELS.

just wanted to say that Pabu is like the steambabies' childhood bedtime story HERO. and i'm so damn proud of my head for creating that headcanon.

also i've never written little kids before so don't judge me kay thanks.

on the latest episode: yay girl bonding! yay Bolin and Pabu! lay the hell off Mako, everyone else! yay character development! yay fab bending bro fabulousness (dem arms!)! yay Avatar Korra! yay Tenzin! yay Lin! yay everyone on ATI! TL;DR: i have no complaints (cept i really want Tahno to become a main character.)

and finally, to fellow Makorra shippers: OUR SHIP HAS NOT SUNK, IT HAS SIMPLY BECOME A SUBMARINE. there's a difference, mafriends. it's not over till Korra doesn't have feelings for Mako, which she CLEARLY does.

i have more theories and headcanons and attempted updates on this and general weird shit on my tumblr (also whisperedtouches). just, y'know. if you wanna. if you're bored.

it is very late. reviews would be lovely. thanks for reading though. :)

imma shuddup now and go to bed

~whisperedtouches

**disclaimer: **don't own Korra or Mako or Republic City or the park or the tree or Pabu, but Rai Li and Kouri are mine. everything else recognizable belongs to Bryke and Nick. i am not intending to infringe on any kind of copyright.


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